Fair Game 



ried, overtaking steps? It was for something 

 which apparently I had forgotten that I slowed 

 my pace. 



"I thought," he said, "yovl might be lonely 

 going." And before I knew it, he had fallen into 

 step. 



There seemed no two ways about acceptance 

 of his conduct. Not as an upstart surely could 

 I rebuke so grave and dignified a cavalier. Nor 

 as we walked out along the country roads did I 

 regret my escort. For in him, of all men alone, 

 I found the humble attitude which I, in emulat- 

 ing Dido, had so zealously desired. At the same 

 time I recognized the tristful prelude to depar- 

 ture. On the morrow I must again assume the 

 attitude of flight. 



But it was at Touisset, a place of small adven- 

 ture, that the ultimate irony took place. Its hero 

 this time was a farm-hand, a Portuguese of 

 roguish, impudent good looks, who delighted in 

 what undeniably was his, and in a spendthrift 

 way that would have put Narcissus as a niggard 

 quite to shame. Seated upon a load of hay, he 

 was elate upon a throne; and the quick-flashing 

 [189] 



